


Thanks, Mom

by justanotherbusyfangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanotherbusyfangirl/pseuds/justanotherbusyfangirl
Summary: You go to visit your mom at her new house and find a handsome man mowing her yard.





	Thanks, Mom

You turned onto your mom’s street, eager to see her new house all finally put together. She had moved about a month ago, but you had been so busy with your job that you hadn’t had a chance to come by and see the place, let alone help her unpack.

She didn’t seem to mind, as she quite enjoyed organizing and arranging things. You had talked to her on the phone many times and she told you all the new ideas she had for the house… It felt like you had been there a thousand times with all the details she had shared, but you were just now getting to see it.

You pulled into the driveway, eyes scrunched in confusion when you saw a man pushing a lawnmower in her yard. Your mom had always done her own yard work, saying that it was the best work out she would get and not liking to work out in any other ways.

The man looked your way and waved, before quickly turning back to his task. You reached for your purse after you turned off your car, getting out slowly. You looked at the man again, taking him in. He was wearing jeans and a v-neck t-shirt, hair short with scruff on his face. His face – _that_ was a handsome face. Plump lips and a light brush of freckles under piercing green eyes that you could see all the way across the yard. He turned the lawnmower so that he was now facing away from you, and you couldn’t help but admire his back muscles that flexed under his thin t-shirt and the curve of his ass –

You shook your head and walked toward the front door. You knocked twice before just turning the knob, letting yourself in. “Ma! It’s me!” you yelled, setting your purse on the table by the door and taking in the scene.

You smiled as you saw many familiar items and pieces of furniture from your childhood memories filling this new, clean space. Ahead of you was the open living space, and your mom walked into your view as you took a couple steps into the house. She spread her arms wide, motioning to the house, and smiled.

“What do you think, baby girl?” she asked, eager for your opinion. You walked the last few steps toward her and gave her a big hug.

“It’s great mom. Just what you needed,” you replied, before pulling away and letting her take you on the grand tour. After a few minutes, you had seen everything (including the room that held many of your leftover childhood items, safely kept in a new space). The two of you made it back toward the front of the house and you heard the lawnmower going in the front.

“Oh, ma – I meant to ask you. Who’s that guy out there mowing your yard?” you looked at her curiously, and she smiled.

Your mom moved to the door, pushing the curtain to the side slightly so she could look outside. “That’s my next door neighbor, Dean. He came over a couple days after the movers left with a piping hot apple pie, welcoming me to the neighborhood.” She turned back to you and led you to the kitchen, still speaking. “Nice young man, hard worker. He won’t let me touch a single yard tool anymore – I’m going to get fat!”

You laughed at your mom’s comment as she handed you a cold coke. You sat at the bar in the kitchen, watching your mom finish dinner preparations. “Well, I didn’t know who he was, but he seemed to be doing good work, so who was I to stop him?” you said, glad that a creeper wasn’t invading your mom’s space.

The two of you settled into comfortable silence as you watched her work, pulling chicken out of the oven and stirring the mashed potatoes. She pulled out salad fixings and you got up to help her chop and toss a salad.

Once things were almost done, you heard a knock on the front door, and your mom hollered, “Come on in, Dean!”

The front door opened and closed, and a fairly sweaty but still ridiculously attractive Dean walked into the kitchen. He shot a smile at you before looking at your mom, saying politely, “Yard’s all done, Diane. Just wanted to let ya know.”

You were mesmerized with Dean’s smile and the short scruff on his face as he talked, but quickly caught yourself staring and went back to making the salad. You blushed down at your hands, berating yourself silently for being so worked up just looking at the man.

“Thanks so much Dean, I really appreciate your help. Please stay for dinner, I’d love for you to get to know my daughter, Y/N.” You realized your mom was gesturing toward you, so you turned back to them and wiped your hands on a small towel.

“Hey there,” you said lamely, giving him a small wave. 

Dean smiled at you again, giving you a soft “Hey” back. He turned back to your mom, saying to her, “Thank you, Diane, but I’m way too gross to eat with you lovely ladies…” He motioned toward his sweaty and dirty clothes, proving his point.

“Nonsense. We don’t mind.” You knew your mom wasn’t going to take no for an answer. You chuckled to yourself, having been in that situation a thousand times. It was pretty entertaining to watch someone else trying to say no to your mother.

Dean sighed, realizing that he had to give in. “At least let me go clean up really quick? I’ll be back in ten.” Your mom accepted that, nodding at him as he turned back to go out the front door. You heard it close and went back to your salad making.

Almost exactly ten minutes later, you heard the front door open. You and your mom had set the table and were just finishing putting out plates when Dean came back in. Looking up at him, you noticed that he had obviously taken a quick shower, as his hair was damp and the wafting smell of him was nice and Old-Spice-y. He had changed into a nicer pair of dark jeans that hugged his legs nicely, topping it off with a red and blue plaid button up shirt.

Once again you waved at him in greeting, heading toward the refrigerator. “Drinks?”

“Tea for me,” your mom replied, settling herself at the table. “Dean, what would you like? Water, tea, coke, beer?”

Dean stood there awkwardly until you put your mom’s tea at her spot, a beer at yours. Seeing that he wouldn’t be the only one drinking, he looked at you saying, “Beer for me, thanks.”

You nodded, grabbing him a bottle before you sat at your spot at the table. Dean didn’t sit until you were settled, and you saw your mom eyeing the two of you not-very-indiscreetly.

“Well, dig in!” your mom encouraged, and you set to work loading your plate. Salad, chicken, mashed potatoes – home cooked meals were the best part of visiting your mom, not that you would ever tell her that. If she asked, it was obviously seeing her that was the best part.

You started eating and watched as Dean placed portions smaller than your own on his plate. You laughed. “Dean, we all know that you will want more than that. I promise we won’t judge if you fill your plate like a real man.”

Your mom laughed with you, nodding in agreement at your statement. “Yeah, Dean. Especially after your handyman work-out you did for me, a filling dinner is the least I can give you.”

Dean looked sheepishly between the two of you, before giving a shrug and smile in thanks and filling his plate even more. Your mom nodded in satisfaction and the three of you fell into an easy dinner conversation.

Your mom talked about the new house, the things she had done already to make it more home-y, then things she wanted to improve, and how wonderful it was to have Dean helping her. He offered himself to assist in the other home improvement projects she planned, and you could see that he was a truly good person.

You asked Dean what he did, “When my mother isn’t taking up all of your time, that is,” and he talked about his classic car auto shop. It was a business that was his passion, but he also didn’t have to overwork himself. Because of his classic-car-only criteria, he was able to charge a bit more and work a bit less. 

You watched him as he spoke, enjoying the way his eyes lit up with passion as he told you about his Baby, the 1967 Chevy Impala that was sitting outside his garage. “She’s much prettier than your car, no offense. And runs better too, in fact, I meant to tell you earlier – just listening to your engine on the way down the street – you need to get your drive belt replaced.”

You looked at him, surprised at what he was saying. “Huh?” you asked lamely, not having a clue what a drive belt was.

Dean laughed, wiping his mouth with his napkin. “Your drive belt. I heard your engine as you were coming down the street. I can take a look before you leave tonight, and I can replace it for you for free if you don’t have a regular mechanic. I’d just have to order the part.”

Still surprised that Dean could tell there was something wrong with your car just by hearing it run when you hadn’t even noticed after driving it, you looked toward your mom.   
“I’d believe him, honey. You two can go out and look when we’re done with dinner,” she said to you, and you nodded.

You turned back to Dean and gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Dean.”

He smiled in return, picking up his fork again. “No problem, sweetheart,” he replied, before stuffing his mouth with a huge piece of chicken.

Your mom took over the conversation again, going on and on about this or that. You and Dean quickly realized that you were not going to be included in the conversation anymore, just getting a, “Yeah,” or “Really?” in every couple minutes as she rambled.

Every so often, you’d make eye contact with him across the table, and he’d shoot you a small smile. The more times it happened, the more your stomach did somersaults. You were definitely in trouble, especially if your mom caught wind of the fact that you thought her neighbor was attractive…she’d never let you hear the end of it.

Finally dinner was over and you picked up plates, taking them to the sink to clean. Dean brought his and tried to help, but you shooed him away, insisting he go back to the table to entertain your mom some more. He gave you a look as if he knew that you were using him as a distraction, and you laughed and shrugged.

When the dishes were all done, you dried your hands and walked back to the table. “Another beer, Dean?” you offered, looking at your mom for approval to host her guest. She smiled, just as Dean replied.

“Sure. We can take it outside while I look at your car.”

You nodded, turning to the fridge to grab another beer for Dean, while you grabbed yourself a coke. You followed him outside, your mom calling after you that she’d be cleaning up the rest of dinner.

Dean stopped on the porch, smiling as you handed him his beer and cheersing you, before taking a long swig. “Keys?” he asked afterward, licking his lips of the residual liquid.   
You pulled your keys from your pocket, letting him lead the way to your car. Like a pro, he popped the hood, setting his beer on a flat surface inside before he leaned in, fiddling with things around your engine.

You stood back, watching him work. Well, actually, you were mainly observing the muscles in his back flex, seeing how his ass was just perky enough that your hand was itching to give it a squeeze, and noting the way his legs were slightly bowed at the knees, making his stance wider than a normal person’s. All of a sudden, you were thrown into a fantasy of you and Dean, tumbling between sheets and filling the room with sounds of passion and intensity…

“Y/N?” Dean asked, apparently not for the first time. You snapped your eyes to his face from where you had stared off into space, and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “You with me?”

You could tell that your face was flushed, and you nodded quickly. “Yeah, sorry. Off in my own world, I guess,” you replied, taking a large swig of your coke. It burned on the way down your throat. “What did you say?”

Dean motioned back to your engine. “I was right – the drive belt’s about to snap.” Dean pointed at something under the hood, and you nodded as if you had any clue what he was saying. “I can put in a call tonight and have a replacement that matches your model here by tomorrow afternoon. You can take the chance and drive home tonight and back over here tomorrow, or I can give you a lift home if you don’t want to risk it.”

He picked up his beer and looked back at you, waiting for an answer. You had no knowledge of cars at all, but trusted Dean implicitly. It was a bit strange, trusting someone you had just met so quickly, but you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“Thanks, Dean,” you replied, looking from your car back to your mother’s house. “I guess I don’t want to risk it, right?”

He did a half-shrug, half-nod motion, leaving the final decision up to you. “Well, I bet my mom can drive me…”

“No, Y/N,” Dean interrupted you. “I’d be happy to drive you home.”

You saw the genuine smile on Dean’s face and couldn’t find any will in you to argue. “Okay then. I guess I’m about ready to go. Just gotta tell ma.”

Dean nodded and followed you back inside. “Ma!” you yelled, heading back to the kitchen. When you got there, your mother turned to look at you in the doorway. “Dean’s going to drive me home, so my car’s gonna be here until he fixes it tomorrow. Do you need anything else?”

“No, sweetie, I’m good. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, though?” she replied, drying her hands and ushering you and Dean back to the front door.

“Guess so,” you replied, grabbing your stuff.

Dean headed out the door first. “I’ve gotta grab my jacket, I’ll meet you at my car,” he said over his shoulder, jogging to his house.

You and your mom watched him for a moment, before she nudged you with her elbow. “Now, Y/N, aren’t you glad that handsome man was doing my yardwork for me? He’s nice, ain’t he?”

Your eyes widened at your mother. “This was a set up the whole time, wasn’t it?!” you exclaimed, appalled (but not at all surprised) that your mom did this.

“Just say, ‘Thanks Mom’ and be done with it sweetie,” she said, patting your cheek.

“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes at her, before giving her a genuine smile. “Thanks, Mom.”

You headed toward Dean’s car then, seeing that he was coming back out of his house. Meeting him at the passenger door, he opened it like a real gentleman. “Ready?” he asked, smiling.

You smiled back, getting in. “Ready.”

The door closed and you looked out the window at your mom on the porch, a grin on her face. _Yep, thanks mom indeed_.


End file.
